


only yours

by orphan_account



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idol/Fan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he's yours, and you're his. always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only yours

you’re not stupid. you know that you’re not the only person in his life, and that with his profession, you probably never will be. it’s difficult to accept when you love him this much, but you know that he loves you in return, so you smile and accept it.

anything that he can give, you’ll take.

meeting him is quite difficult, since he has such a packed schedule, but you make do. you rush from place to place, camera around your neck to capture the moments he’s most beautiful that you then share with him and the rest of the world. when this all first started, you had been possessive, wanting to keep him all to yourself, but soon you let go, knowing that it’ll all be okay.

he smiles when he sees you, his eyes crinkling at the corners and the corners of his lips quirking up. he’s so beautiful you can’t help but be starstruck each time you see him. he turns that smile onto other people and you feel irrationally jealous, but then he turns back to you again, smiles that smile all for you and only for you, and somehow all is right in the world again.

on days when it seems like the world is ending, everything crashing down around you, you rely on him. his voice is soothing in your ear as you hold the phone close to yourself, words of encouragement spilling from his lips that you soak up like a sponge. for him, you think, for him you can do anything. he is the sunshine in your life and you will never let him go.

“hello,” he says, grinning widely when he sees you. you laugh in relief that he has not forgotten you, that you are still special to him, even amongst everyone else. that smile is turned on you again, and you hold your album out to him. he doesn’t ask for your name - he doesn’t have to, he knows who you are, after all - and signs it immediately. there are people behind you wondering why he doesn’t ask, you can tell, but you say nothing and studies the contours of his cheekbones and the way his lashes flutter slightly.

“thank you,” you reply when he hands you your album bank, and he holds his hands out to interlink your fingers together. his hands are as warm as always, you think fondly. it’s nice to know that he hasn’t changed despite gaining more and more fame.

when you move on to his partner, the older grins up at you, his eyes narrowing into crescents that rival his in how adorable he is. no, you tell yourself, no matter how cute he is, your beloved is still the best. you can almost feel him pouting in your direction.

“ya,  _hyung_ ,” he whines. “don’t steal him away from me.”

“of course, of course,” his partner placates, patting him gently on the arm. he turns back up to grin at you again, signing your album with a flourish. “been treating our jinyoung well?” he asks.

you flush a little, nodding. it’s difficult to ignore the envious glares that are being shot your way, but you turn and he’s smiling at you so comfortingly that you can’t help but relax. you’re special, after all, it’s normal for people to treat you this way. no big deal, you think. as long as he keeps smiling at you like that, you can deal with anything.

he gives you so much strength it almost hurts.

when he flies overseas you keep up with what’s he’s doing. he gets busier when he’s overseas, the time differences making it more difficult to keep it contact. you’re on your phone all the time, waiting for a notification to pop up, getting disappointed when a day passes and there’s nothing from him. it’s not very healthy, you think, but then you remember he’s busy and you sigh to yourself, burying your face into your pillow.

he belongs to so many more people, like he always says. when he’s asked the question  _who do you belong to?_  he always answers  _yours!_  and it hurts. you know it’s irrational to feel this way, because this is his job, it’s something that he has to do, but it still hurts you.

it’s when he goes overseas and treats them differently that it cuts you like a knife. you know that he’s still yours, essentially, that the warm smiles that he shoots you are still yours and yours alone, but it can’t help but pick at your heart. he’s so much brighter there, so much more enthusiastic than he is here. you feel as though you don’t mean anything to him, and that feeling sucks. you’re not sure if this is what you signed up for when you decided to be his.

but he apologizes to you, the words typed out. you read his apology and sigh. you forgive him, as always, and tells him so. he must have fallen asleep; it is only the next morning that he gives a grateful reply.

the next time you get to see him, he is on stage. you wave your banner at him, and he sends you a wink. you flush, evidently flustered, and his laugh is happy. you revel in it, his laughter. it’s melodious and a little ridiculous, but it’s the most perfect sound you’ve ever heard and ever will hear. you could listen to it again and again until you’re old and grey and on your last breath. you think that if you could die listening to his laughter, you’d die a happy man.

they’re calling for fans to be brought on stage and you stare up at him, hopeful. he can’t deny you this, not when you haven’t been together in so long. he points at you almost immediately and you jump up. his partner is smirking at you but you ignore him. he isn’t important right now. only him, only your angel, your beloved. he’s the only one that matters right now.

“hello,” he greets. he’s always greeting you like this, that word on his lips and that smile curving them as he says it. you grin back bashfully and he laughs. you’re not usually like this. he knows that. you’re on stage so he can’t be too obvious. his partner links fingers with the fan he chose, but your angel jumps onto your back, clinging onto you.

you wonder if you’ve died and gone to heaven.

because there he is, on your back, his weight warm against you. you stumble a little and he laughs again, breath tickling the back of your neck. he’s so unbelievable, you think, doing something so reckless, but you walk forward and pose anyway. he hangs off of you, legs stretching out gracefully. it’s ridiculous, you think again, but you’re glad despite it.

you go back to your seat when it’s over, and he hugs you close as a thank you for coming on stage. you feel the half envious half awed gazes on your back and grin. jinyoung is yours more than he will ever be theirs.

when the lights dim after the encore and the announcement is made for you to leave, you reluctantly trudge back home. you can already feel the sadness crawling up over you and you take out your camera to look at the pictures that you’d taken that day. you smile, looking at him in all his angelic beauty and sigh happily.

you push open your door and strip, moving towards the bathroom. you shower quickly, singing to his songs, headbanging according to the beat. it’s silly, but you love it. you always do it, and you probably always will.

the door to your bedroom swings open when you push at it gently. you smile. this is your sanctuary, where you can be with him. here, you are safe. here, he is only yours.

you lie on the bed, unlocking your phone with a swipe. you look at the picture that he posted online and laugh to yourself, liking it then commenting. you glance at the merchandise you have of him, hugging his cushion to yourself. you dig into the covers, making yourself comfortable.

you’re special to him.

because here, you can pretend. you can pretend that you’re his one and only. you can pretend you’re not just a fan.

you can pretend that the reason he knows your name is because you’re in a romantic relationship, not because you’ve been to so many of their fan meetings they already know who you are.

you can pretend that the reason you know his hands are warm is because you get to hold them in private, not because you’ve paid hundreds of dollars to buy multiple handshake passes off of other people.

you can pretend that the reason his partner tells you to take care of him is because you’re dating, not because you’re the master of one of his many fansites.

you can pretend the encouraging words he gives you are from when he’s on the phone with you, telling you that you can do it, not from videos you watch on your phone time after time despite already having memorized everything that he says to his fans when he’s trying to encourage them.

you can pretend that the notification you always wait for to pop up on your phone is from a text message to you, not from a tweet to hundreds of thousands of other people all around the world.

you can pretend that the apology he gives you is through a private message, or a call, and not posted on social media to all his fans because he’s seen how the way he treats fans in different parts of the world differently have hurt them.

you can pretend that the reason he picks you to go up on stage is because you haven’t seen each other in a while and he wants to spend some time with you, even if in front of all his other fans, not because you’re holding up a giant placard with his name on it.

you can pretend his smile is for you and you only, his laughter only for your ears and his winks only for your eyes, not for every single fan that he has out there.

you can pretend the one smiling at you right now is the real park jinyoung, and not posters, photobooks, slogans, every single merchandise of him that you’ve ever bought crowding your room and taking up much needed space.

here, in your room, alone in the dark, you can pretend.

you can pretend that you’re not crying. you can pretend that you’re not in love with someone who will never really look at you other than as one more face in the crowd he has to please in the dog eat dog industry he works in.

you can pretend that you actually mean something to him.

you can pretend.


End file.
